


Reunion

by toastburs



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: DK. TOMMY'S DEAD, One Shot, Other, and then there's tommy, family dynamic adjacent, he's dead., i promise wilbur soot is not irl dead, nor tommy, these are all fictional dsmp versions of these characters, they do not reflect the real people who play them, this is a little off-canon but who cares? certainly not me, wilbur's dead. dead as hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29962080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toastburs/pseuds/toastburs
Summary: In the nothingness of the afterlife, there has been a space prepared for Tommy. Wilbur has felt it for what seems to be years: forever and a day. But when that space finally gets filled, Wilbur is met with a mix of emotions. But his first instinct is to run. What ever happened to "it's never my time to die", Tommy? An introspective small one-shot about c!Wilbur's inner monologue when he sees Tommy in the afterlife.
Relationships: n/a
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Reunion

_ You never do seem to die, do you? _

But it happened like _ this _ ?

It starts with a whisper. A feeling, tugging at the modicum of life you’ve got left. The space that seemed to open closed again and again until that space seemed completely gone... But when a space is gone, that does not mean it is empty. How do you get rid of an empty space?

… Christ.

You fill it.

The tugging feeling does not let up; it is relentless in its taunts. Soon you are walking blindly through an endless forest filled with static, ignoring the ramblings of a drunk bastard in your peripheral. The walking picks up when you can feel the tether pulling back. For the first time in what feels like forever you remember what it’s like to feel alive, how worrying and horrifying it is. To live is to feel: to feel joy and happiness and grief and anger in the same breath. You have had everything taken from you willingly, and yet you are being given something you never asked for.

You were never brothers by blood, but the blood of the covenant has always been thicker of the water of the womb. Blood shed, a deep crimson that you will never see that paints the obsidian walls: the ones that weep for the life of a child taken from them.

Your gentle footsteps turn to raucous runs. You push the static away and numbly run as fast as your legs can take you from where the tether ties around your heart and supports your brother’s waist, and limitless you carry yourself. The tether seems shorter, and you’re having trouble convincing yourself that this is real.

There was a time when you would convince yourself that Tommy could never die. It wasn’t in the cards; he’d lived through so much and failed to close his eyes a final time. And like this: without so much of a final goodbye.

It ended with a _whisper_.

Your eyes meet blonde hair and he looks absolutely battered. You do not see blue: you see red. Your hands tremble and for the first time in what seems to be an eternity, you feel what it’s like to be alive again, even when death separates you from the mortal coil. Even now, you can hear the thrumming of your unfinished symphony. The beat on the ground that was once alive.

The space between you and your brother seems prominent. You do not speak. You stare at each other in awe and he seems to be afraid of you. You suppose he has quite the reason to, and you suppose that this is the last place he wants to be. ( Who would want this fate? )

Yet, to complete the tether, to make it stronger, you offer a hand.

He stares at you. Blankly. He is scared. ( He’s always been scared. )

Yet, somehow, he takes your hand, and you feel your heart crack. His hands are weak and shaky like yours, but even now he tries to hold himself strong and true. He makes a couple of jokes that go over your head, yet there is something different about him. Fundamentally. The way he holds himself is strong but his eyes do not hold the same fire and life that they did. You suppose that’s what happens when you die. ( Is this how he felt when he saw the you that wasn’t you? )

You were never brothers by blood, but the blood of the covenant has always been thicker of the water of the womb. Blood shed, a muted crimson that paints certain parts of his body: that stains his clothes.

You were never brothers by blood, but you are brothers.  He takes your hand. It is shaking. 

( Some family reunion. )

You are reunited, and there is a lot of work to be done.

But for now, you hold him close. Not only are his hands shaking, but his whole body is. He no longer quips, he simply stays in an embrace. You can’t bring yourself to say anything, he is so young and has been through so much and it is unfair to you and to everyone else. You wonder if people will be celebrating on the other side: celebrating for  _ his _ death like they celebrated for  _ yours _ . It makes your stomach twist. Your heart sours. You hold him closer, because no matter how you felt about him you are proud of him for making it this far.

You don’t know what you say when you say it. You try to quip too ( all you’ve really had is your words ) but it all falls flat. You try to get him to smile but why would  _ anyone _ smile in a situation like this? He is scared of death even after death, yet he holds himself like he always has.

You feel sick. You hold him closer.

And you assure him that this is not his time.

Because it is  _ never _ his time to die.

( No matter what. )

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of hopefully many fanfictions here! I'm working on a full multi-chapter fic because I promised my followers on twitter I would for 500 followers. So! Looking forward to that one. Wilbur is my little meow meow. Hope you enjoyed!


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